


Inspiration

by sunalso



Series: Sun and Gort Do Kink Bingo Spring 2019 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Muse - Freeform, Season/Series 01, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: S1 very AU. Jemma has been recruited to Coulson's team but is struggling with her latest idea, a nonlethal weapon. She asks for help, and the universe responds by sending her a muse. With wings.beta'd by Gort





	Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> _A/N: The first kink bingo fic from the card Gort and I are sharing, for the square **Wing Kink** This fic starts very early in S1. There's Simmons, but she's missing something...or someone _

Jemma almost threw something breakable. She was that frustrated.

The beaker was never in any real danger as she placed it in the sink’s cleaning rack, but it was the thought that counted. Leaning against one of the benches in the lab on the Bus, Jemma put her face in her hands and sighed.

“I need help,” she mumbled. Agent Coulson was still trying to find a fellow scientist with a complimentary set of skills to work with her, but that wasn’t helping right now when she had a functional dendrotoxin formula and a nonworking delivery system. Jemma simply didn’t have the engineering knowledge base to get the gun to work. The N.L.P.—non-lethal projectile—gun had so much potential, but she couldn’t get the casing on the cartridge to disintegrate correctly under the skin. She thought it might be a problem with the firing mechanism and…dammit. Bloody hell. “I wish I had the first clue how to make this work.”

“Maybe I can help?”

Jemma screamed and jumped back. There was a man in her lab that’d appeared out of nowhere. A lab that was 30,000 feet in the air moving several hundred miles an hour.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “But you did ask for help.” She stared. He was lean, not too tall, a little scruffy, with sandy-brown hair that looked like it would curl if it was any longer.

He was kind of cute.

In a terrifying how-did-he-appear way.

There was a rustle, and Jemma’s mouth fell open as the man spread a set of pure white, feathered wings out to almost touch the walls of the lab, before snapping them to fold against his back.

“What the hell are you?”

“I’m Leopold Fitz,” he said with an eager smile. “Call me Fitz.”

“That’s who, not what.”

He looked put out. “I’ve been allocated as your personal muse.” Fitz’s lower lip crept out.

“My what? How did you get in here?”

“Where’s here? It looks like a lab.”

“On a secret government airplane.”

Fitz perked up, and his wings rustled. Dear lord, he had wings. “An airplane! Fascinating, what kind? It must be huge.” He looked up at the ceiling. “And I told you, I’m a muse.”

“It’s a C-17…and, wait. This…you’re a muse? I’m not a writer. I’m a biochemist. Dr. Jemma Simmons.”

“I know,” Fitz said. “But you need scientific inspiration. And help. You said so. And I was sent to aid you. Now tell me all about your current project.”

“You simply appear, with a set of wings, on a secret airplane and want me to tell you about classified projects? I don’t think so.”

“Look, how else am I supposed to inspire you if you won’t tell me? And you wished for help. I came. You could be just a touch more grateful.”

She crossed her arms. “This is insane.” Had she fallen asleep? Maybe he was a dream. Jemma could understand her subconscious giving her a handsome man to work with on a project, his blue eyes and accent were really pushing her buttons, but the wings were overkill.

“It’s not.” He copied her pose, his gaze surly. “I am a muse. I inspire. You need inspiration. Ergo, here I am.”

“No. I refuse. I’m dreaming, and my brain provided a sexually pleasing form for me to project my need for someone to work with onto.”

“Sexually pleasing?” His brow creased.

“Yes, Fitz, you’re cute and I bet you’re also a genius. Everything I would want. Therefore, I cannot believe you exist.”

The lines on his forehead deepened. “Sexually pleasing?”

The doors to the lab swooshed open, and Skye walked in. Jemma blinked. Fitz was nowhere to be seen. Not even a stray feather.

“How’s it going?” Skye asked, frowning and glancing at where Jemma was glowering. “Did the wall do something?”

Jemma waved a hand. “I think I must be dealing poorly with stress. I…you don’t see anyone else in here, correct?”

“Uh, no.” Skye glanced around.

“Nice looking man with a set of wings?”

Skye made a face. “No.” She drew the word out. “Not so much. Jemma, do you need some personal time? Maybe a vibrator?”

“That’s not…oh god, what if I do?”

“Next stop we’ll go get you one of those almost silent models. You’ll be okay.”

“Thank you. Stress relief and self-care are important, and I’ve been neglecting both while working on this project.” She gestured at the N.L.P. gun and dismissed the image of her muse. Obviously, he was the product of an exhausted and sex-starved brain.

“That’s actually what Coulson wanted me to ask you about. How’s the Neep coming?”

“N. L. P.”

“Neep.”

Jemma brushed her hair off her forehead. She wasn’t going to argue the nickname at the moment. “I’m afraid it’s not. I’m having a devil of a time getting the cartridge right. And the barrel. And how it fires. My formula works, I just can’t get it delivered correctly.” She slumped. “This is not my area of expertise.” She smiled, even though she didn’t feel it. “But I’ll keep plugging away.”

“I’ll tell Coulson. And, like, eat a snickers or something.” Skye gave her a thumbs up, and Jemma continued smiling inanely as Skye left the lab and ran up the stairs.

“She seems nice,” Fitz said from behind her.

Jemma whirled and marched right over to him. “You do _not_ exist.”  She poked his very solid feeling chest.

Fitz looked heavenward. “Do so, but I’m your muse. Nobody else can see me, so I’m only visible when you’re alone.” Jemma poked him again. He felt very real. “Now this N.L.P. gun—terrible name—you need to be able to fire a cartridge and have it pierce—”

“Peirce into the subdermal space and immediately disintegrate and deliver the toxin.”

Fitz nodded. “Show me what you have.”

“I…can’t.”

He put his hands on his hips, and his wings flicked out slightly. “I’m a magical muse here to help you solve a scientific problem. I think I proved that by disappearing when your friend walked in here. At the worst, I’m a projection of your subconscious attempting to assist you in seeking a reasonable solution.”

“I can work with that.”

He nodded, and she led him to the prototype, letting him study it as she called up the schematics on a tablet. Fitz browsed through those as well, occasionally muttering to himself or rustling his wings.

“I’ve tried so many materials for the casing,” she said as he continued to fuss. “Is there something I haven’t considered?”

He held up one of the bullet-like cartridges. “What different shapes have you tried?”

“Most calibers. I’ve varied the composition and shell thickness—”

“All over, or just certain spots?”

Her brain started whirring. “Only all over, but there’s no reason it can’t be swiss cheese, is there? Maybe even more than one material.”

Fitz’s eyes twinkled. “Feeling inspired?”

“Oh, goodness, yes, but what about the gun itself?”

****

Jemma had never been so productive in the lab. Fitz was extraordinary. Not only did he have his take on things, but he made her thinking clearer. She felt twice as smart with him as a partner and sounding board.

He also smelled nice.

And when they were working side-by-side, one of his wings would unfold and curl around her. Not touching her, but just as if he was letting her know that while he might be focused on what he was doing, she was still in his thoughts.

It was hard not to brush against them and see if they felt as downy as they looked.

Jemma dragged out a ballistics-gel testing medium when Fitz was finally satisfied with the prototype and was reassembling it.

He handed the N.L.P. to her. “You do the honors.”

She followed safety regulations, donned ear protection that Fitz refused, started the camera, aimed, and fired.

It worked perfectly.

Chest heaving, Jemma set the N.L.P. gun down carefully. She waited a few seconds, then squealed. “We did it!” She rushed Fitz and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment he hugged her back. Her arms were around him, and she could feel the muscles in his back shifting as his wings moved

Wings that did not entirely make sense. Jemma stopped hugging and began feeling for muscles and tendons. She let go of Fitz, snuck under his arm, and put her palms on either side of his spine.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded hoarse.

“Examining you. Your wings are fascinating.”

He spread them wide and flapped once, the sound a loud snap in the small lab. The thrill that ran down her spine was a surprise, but she ignored it in favor of more scientific pursuits. Fitz’s shirt had neatly made holes for his wings, but how did he put it on? She slid her hands up until she found the buttons that held the shirt closed, hidden under the collar.

“Jemma?” Fitz said as her fingers skimmed over them. She could discover so much more if his back wasn’t covered. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I want to know more about your wings. I need your shirt off to do that.” She paused. “Is that okay? Can I examine you?”

He nodded. “Yes…um, just be careful. They’re sensitive.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

Quickly, she undid both sides and removed his shirt. The muscles of his back rippled as he opened and closed his wings for her.

The heat in her belly was getting get harder to ignore. Biting her lip, she concentrated on the way Fitz’s wings rose from his shoulder blades, feeling how smooth skin turned into tiny, perfectly white, feathers. She circled her hands around the bases, and Fitz jerked and gave a low moan. Her entire body pulsed in response.

Fitz abruptly spun away from her, his wings furling over his front. “Um, do you have anything else you’re working on?” he said in a high voice.

“Not at the…did I do something wrong?”

“No…just…I’ve never had someone I was a muse for touch me. They only want my ideas and then send me on my way.” He spread one of his wings a little more so it was mostly hiding his rather flushed face and mumbled something about usually the people he helped were also old men.

“Do you need to go?”

He shook his head. “Um, feels like I’m not done here. I don’t know why.” His face became even redder. “You’re very nice to work with. I’ve been doing this for a while, and I’ve never met anyone half as smart as you. Someone that could…understand me?”

Jemma took a step towards him. “You’re an amazing muse. It feels like you unlocked my mind.”

Fitz straightened up, grinning. “Really? Because I’m not that good.”

“What do you mean?” She was very puzzled. Just being around him made her feel more alive.

“You were my last shot. Usually, I can’t coax ideas out of people, and then I just tell them what to do, they’re successful, and that’s not what I’m supposed to do.” He shrugged. “This might still be my final gig. I don’t know.”

Jemma was horrified. “What? What will happen to you?”

“No idea. I think I was something before I was a scientific muse, but I can’t remember. I suppose I’ll be made into something new again.”

She walked all the way over to him, pushing his wings aside and putting her hands on his chest. “But you can’t just cease to exist. You enjoyed what you were doing today, like I did, and you’re excellent at it.”

His fingers rose to trail down her back. “You made it fun.”

She shivered from his touch. “You’re too important not to be helping people.”

He had ridiculously long lashes, and his lips looked very kissable.

“I don’t think I’m that important,” he whispered.

“You’re important to me.” She pressed her mouth to his. Fitz groaned, his hands splayed out on her back, pressing her to him, and his wings swept around her. He kisses were clumsy at first, but then he seemed to grasp the concept—Jemma was not at all surprised, he was a fast learner—and quickly started snogging her with abandon. The soft glide of their lips together set shockwaves through her. Jemma cradled his face as he sucked on her lower lip.

Her breasts ached, and need was making her pussy throb.

It was late. No one else would be awake. They were quite alone in the lab, had been for ages. What would it matter if Jemma indulged herself?

Except Fitz was some sort of supernatural creature. What if he didn’t have the necessary parts? Dear god, that would be embarrassing. And a complete tragedy.

Fitz’s hand caressed her back, then dropped lower to grab and knead her arse. He pressed his hips forward, and a hard bulge in his trousers ground against her belly.

That was a relief.

His hands tugged at her jumper as he broke the kiss. “I want to see you.” He sounded rather confused by his own desire. “You’re so beautiful and have the most amazing honeyed eyes, and I really need to touch all of you.”

“I’d like that.” She pulled her jumper over her head, followed by her blouse. Fitz frowned at her bra, then grasped her shoulders and turned her around to see the clasp. She was confronted by the white wall of his wings that were still around her.

Jemma ran her fingers over the feathers, marveling at the long flight ones.

Make a triumphant noise, Fitz undid her bra and spun her to face him again. “I don’t know what idiot designed that torture device,” he grumbled. With a small laugh, she let the straps fall down her arms, and then off.

Her nipples were hard peaks, and Fitz’s eyes narrowed in on them with laser focus. He cupped one, his thumb circling the nipple. The jolts of pleasure made Jemma moan, and she arched into his touch.

His kissed her again, both his hands on her breasts, and his wings tightened around her, holding her and caressing her back. His lips worked from her mouth, along her jaw, paused as he nuzzled her ear, then kissed down her neck. When his mouth closed over her nipple, she gasped. Her fingers dug into his hair, keeping him there.

Fitz made delighted noises, and he switched from breast to breast, licking and sucking.  He paused, cheek smushed against one side, to look up at her with a grin. “I very much like this part of your body.”

Jemma caressed him. “I can tell.”

He rubbed his face against her chest. “I’ve never actually touched anyone like this before. Didn’t know why it seemed such a big part of human lives, but you…I think I could touch you for a thousand years and never get enough.”

“Oh, Fitz.” She directed his mouth back to hers, kissing him fiercely before breaking away. “I feel like I’ve been looking for you my entire life.”

“Can I make love to you?” Fitz asked, voice solemn. It felt like he was asking something more than just to be physical with her, but she wasn’t worried, as long he could remain a little longer with her.

“Yes. Please.”

Her hands went to his trousers, undoing his belt.

Fitz held very still as she pushed his clothes, including pants, down and off his legs. His cock was standing almost straight out from his body, and she was not at all surprised to find that a supernatural creature was physically rather impressive. There was precum beading at the tip and Jemma was very certain she was going to enjoy herself immensely. Hands shaking, she undid her jeans, stripping them and her knickers off after she kicked off her shoes.

She ran a hand over her pussy as she stood, startled at just how slick she was. Her body seemed to be well ahead of her mind.

Fitz trailed the tips of his wings up her legs and over her hips. “You’re magnificent.”

“Thank you. You too.” They stared at each other for a moment. Jemma reached out and cupped Fitz’s sac, gently holding him. His eyes got very wide. Slowly, she moved up to his cock, wrapping her hand around it and stroking. Fitz trembled, and his lids closed. His wings flicked to the side.

She stroked his cock twice more before Fitz groaned and exploded into action. Jemma yipped as he propelled her back against the wall, the metal cold. He pulled her forward slightly to slip a wing behind her. The softness was much better, not that she had time to tell him before he was lifting her with his hands on her ass.

Magical being must mean magical strength. Handy.

Jemma wrapped one leg around his waist while the other went over his elbow, spreading her open to him. She put her arms about his neck, and he kissed her as the head of his cock slid over her folds. He pushed against her a few times, and Jemma had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as he growled and looked down in obvious frustration.

“Use your hand,” she suggested.

He nodded once, let go of her rear with one hand, and positioned his cock at her opening. Jemma leaned her head back and groaned. How exactly had she ended up here? It’d been a weird day.

Fitz fluttered the wing not behind her, then snapped it down as he thrust into her. Jemma could hardly breathe from the dizzying pleasure. She mewled, kissing Fitz’s stubble-covered cheek. His eyes were very wide.

“Jemma?” he asked, voice breathless. “Is it always like this?”

She kept forgetting he was a virgin. Had been a virgin. He both seemed to be a prodigy at sex and a complete innocent.

“No,” she whispered. “It can be terrible. Or boring. This is us.”

“I like us.” His hips hitched, and she groaned.

“I do too.”

Fitz kissed her, and his hips started rocking. His pace rapidly increased from tentative to frantic. Her pelvis churned trying to keep up with him. Her belly was tightening towards climax, despite the odd position. Or maybe because of it. Fitz was hitting just the right spot inside her and grinding against her clit with each thrust. It was beautiful.

His breathing was ragged, and his wing was stretching out, feathers splayed wide.

Jemma pressed her face to his neck, inhaling his scent. The muscles in her thighs tightened.

“I can feel you—” Fitz started, but she didn’t hear the rest as she came with a wail. Bliss rushed through her and Jemma had to close her eyes as her body pulsed around his.

Fitz didn’t stop moving, and when she was able to focus on his face again, he was wearing a cheeky grin. “Oh…you,” she said weakly, pushing at his chest.

“That was good, right?”

“You know it was. I might have seen heaven for a moment.”

He kissed her forehead. “This is better.”

One of her hands caressed the tiny hairs on his nape, then wandered lower to pet the base of his wings.

Fitz’s eyes went wide, and his hips jerked. “Jemma,” he muttered, and his eyes closed. “Jemma, Jemma, Jemma…” He trailed off as she continued to explore his back. His muscles tensed and flexed, making his wing flap slightly with each thrust.

“Oh!” he said, sounding very surprised, and surged deep inside her. His wing snapped hard, and he came silently, his entire body stiffening. A rush of come filled her, and she sighed in satisfaction, holding him close.

Fitz’s knees gave out, and they ended up lying on the floor, one wing under them and the other covering both their bodies. She stroked its downy feathers as Fitz cuddled against her side.

“I’ve never felt like this,” he said, trailing a finger over her cheek. “Most of the time I don’t even have a body.”

“Is this one for me?” she asked. “One that you’d know I’d like?”

His face flushed. “No, I always look like this when I’m helping someone, but I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” She took his hand and held it over her heart.

“I still feel like I’m not done here.”

“I’m glad for that. Do you think you can hold me?” She yawned, and Fitz hugged her with his arm and wing.

“Absolutely.”

****

Jemma didn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke when Coulson yelled. “What is going on and who is that?”

Groggily, Jemma blinked open her eyes. Fitz was there, blinking as at her. He frowned and glanced at a very red-face Coulson.

“Who are you and why are you naked with my scientist?” Coulson sputtered.

“And why do you have wings?” Skye asked, peeking around Coulson.

“You can see me?” Fitz sounded bewildered.

Coulson crossed his arms. “Of course I can see you.”

Fitz’s brows drew together.

“The N.L.P. gun prototype is functional.” Jemma gestured at the counter she thought it was on. “I finished it yesterday, with Fitz’s help. He’s my muse.”

“Your what?” Coulson said.

“You’re giving me credit?” Fitz asked her at the same time.

She focused on Fitz. “Of course I am, that was brilliant work, but it wasn’t only my work.”

“No one gives me credit. They aren’t supposed to. I..I…thank you.”

She hugged him, then looked up at Skye and Coulson. “Can we get our clothes on?”

Coulson nodded sharply and herded Skye out of the lab and up the stairs. Fitz was silent as they dressed until Jemma was doing up the shoulder buttons of his shirt. “I think I’m stuck here, now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I might have broken the rules by sleeping with you, and been sort of…cast out.”

“Did you know that before we—” She glanced at the wall he’d had her against. Fitz shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tempt you out of paradise.” Though truthfully, she wasn’t all that sorry.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not sorry at all. You’re trying not to smile.” Drat. “And it’s not your fault, even if I had known—and really, it’s never come up before—” She snorted, and he sighed. “I would still have wanted you, and I don’t know if I could have just…left you. I feel more like myself than I have in several hundred years of being a muse.”

“Fitz, I don’t want…alright, yes, I want you to stay here with me. We can do so much together.” His brows shot up. “Not that…well, yes, that, a lot, but I mean we can help people. You’ve been aiding one person at a time. We could be helping millions of people. The entire planet.” She put her palms on his chest and gazed into his eyes. “I think we work well together and could do so much, but it’d mean losing your home. If you can be reinstated, I’ll be okay if you go. You’ll also be stuck in a body if you’re here.”

“Why would I ever leave you? And I think I’ll like being corporeal, except my middle hurts.” He wrinkled his nose and looked down as his stomach growled.

Jemma wanted to both cry and laugh. She didn’t think he knew how sweet he was being. “You’re hungry, it’s normal. We’ll find out what you like to eat.”  

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s get my senior agent to agree to this, so we can save the world together, and I can make you a cup of tea.” Fitz took her hand, furling his wings tightly against his back. She led him to the base of the stairs, calling for Coulson. He came back down, and Skye leaned over the upper railing. “Sir, you don’t need to look for a lab partner for me any longer. Fitz is more than able to fill that role. His skills complement mine. And as a supernatural creature, SHIELD is the best place for him.”

“The wings are cool!” Skye called.

“Thanks!” Fitz said, waving at her.

Coulson rubbed his forehead. “Jemma, I trust you, but this will be a trial only, and you’re responsible for him. Plus, I need a report on the N.L.P.—”

“Can we call it the night-night gun?” Fitz asked. “Like, you shoot someone, and they go night-night?”

“No,” Coulson said. Jemma squeezed a pouting Fitz’s shoulder.

“Neep!” Skye called. “It’s the neep gun.”

Coulson’s shoulders slumped, and he pointed at Fitz. “Don’t make me regret this.” Colson’s finger moved to Jemma. “And I also need a report on him.”

“Uh, sir—”

“Not that part,” Coulson quickly added. “Just what you know about where he came from, that sort of information. So we know where to go from here.”

Fitz scratched his neck. “You are a lot calmer about this than I was expecting.” Jemma put a hand on Fitz’s arm, and he unfurled a wing to wrap around her back.

Coulson smiled. “Fitz, this is SHIELD. You are far from the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Subscribe to the collection if you want to see what we come up with for this round of bingo!


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